Fresh Eyes
by YulianaHenderson
Summary: "Teresa Lisbon often woke up at the same time every day, not always needing an alarm to wake her up. Her sleeping pattern, although sometimes messed up, usually granted her just enough rest to function properly on a standard day." Very big AU. Jisbon, sappy, with some Hurt/Comfort in there. Posted as a complete story as a Valentine's gift to y'all.


**A/N: Hello there! I know I have been absent forever, but I was actually very, very busy. I worked like 30+ hours every week for the past two months, and I know that it's a regular work week but I worked night shifts, and morning shifts, so they tired me out.**

 **Anyway, I had intended to publish this story on Valentine's Day, but I had just finished a night shift yesterday so I had no energy to publish it. So just look at this as a belated Valentine's gift! I also wanted to post this as separate chapters, but I realized that I don't have time to do one chapter each week or something along those lines, so you'll be getting this story as a whole! God bless y'all.**

 **This story is an AU because I was feeling like it. It's basically similar to Dismissed in that it features them falling in love but in a different setting. It features the old team, for a change, including Minelli. I wanted to write about that old man again, so there you go. I hope you like it, it has plenty of Jisbon goodness, but it happens a little later in the story. When it does happen, tho, you'll get it all at once, because I won't be taking any prisoners from that point on. Be warned for extreme fluff coming your way!**

 **Also, this story was inspired by a lot of things, most of them I can't even name or recall but a big influence was Fresh Eyes by Andy Grammer. You'll understand when you read it. And I have been working on this story forever - the document was first created on December 19th last year. My God. I'm scared of publishing this.**

 **TLDR: I am very busy now and this story is fluffy and AU and very fluffy.**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

* * *

 ** _'Fresh Eyes'_**

Teresa Lisbon often woke up at the same time every day, not always needing an alarm to wake her up. Her sleeping pattern, although sometimes messed up, usually granted her just enough rest to function properly on a standard day.

On her way to work, she hardly ever met someone, never stopping for coffee or treats, even if she was basically addicted to bear claws from Marie's, but she prefered to get to the office as soon as possible, so as to avoid any contact with people she didn't know.

She wasn't shy of people, far from it. She enjoyed spending time with the colleagues she surrounded herself with, even if she never met up with them after work. Around here, everybody had a story in which they were the victim of someone's abusive or destructive behavior, ultimately taking away all of their trust in other people.

It didn't matter. She enjoyed working here, where she was most comfortable and could do what she loved. Family or good friends were less important in this case. It made her independent, no strings attached, so she could function to the best of her abilities.

Her trusted second-in-command, Kimball Cho, met her when she was about to step into her office.

"We caught a new case," he stated, and she sighed. She had wished that she could catch up with the paperwork from the last three cases, but it seemed she would be once again occupied with a case. She hoped she could close this one as quickly as she had the last one, so she could give the family some rest.

"Tell me."

"He's a John Doe so far. No wallet on him, nothing else to identify him with. Couple of teens found him when they went to a near club."

"Sounds like fun."

Nothing she ever said would bring a smile to his lips, and neither did this comment. Perhaps he agreed with her but felt like it was not the time and place to voice his consent.

She grabbed her bag and the rest of her team on her way to the elevator.

Just another day at the office. She might complain about the routine sometimes to herself, but she did love this job.

~...~

"He had been missing for a few hours when the teens found him. Nobody really knows who saw him last. The teens who found him stated that he was already dead when they got here," Grace van Pelt stated, reading from her notebook. She might be the newest addition to the team, but she had been with them for years now, so Lisbon knew exactly what she could expect from the younger woman. Usually that meant a very extensive description of something that could have done with three words, but it was her.

She was Lisbon's best friend, and she was reminded of that fact often. They were the only women in their team, which meant that they could relate on a lot of topics that they couldn't discuss with their male coworkers. It didn't mean that Lisbon often talked about her personal life with the woman, but she liked listening to her, secretly enjoying to hear about the newest drama Grace had gotten herself into.

"Any surveillance cameras?" Lisbon asked her. Grace shook her head.

"This is a pretty gray area. I asked some of the shopkeepers around but none of them have seen anything suspicious. He walked here often, so they didn't think something was off when he passed."

"Okay. So if nobody saw or heard anything, how did anybody know that he was missing?"

Wayne Rigsby jumped in now to answer that question. He was a tall man, sometimes it felt like he was twice as tall as she was, but despite what his appearance might tell others, he had a heart of gold. He would always protect those he cared about, and he wouldn't harm a fly.

Lisbon suspected him of sleeping with Grace van Pelt, but she had never pressed the fact. If they wanted to keep their budding romance to themselves, they had every right to. As long as it didn't interfere with their work.

"The local homeless shelter told Sacramento PD that he had unexpectedly left the compound. He didn't tell them where he went."

"He didn't leave a name with them?"  
"Nope. Nothing."

"It almost sounds like he wanted to remain anonymous."

She stepped towards the body, and it was not a secret how he had died - one single bullet wound graced his forehead, blood all over his face. She tried to look for anything that was unusual about this body, but he was just that, a typical John Doe.

"Rigsby, check with the coroner to find out if we can discover Doe's identity. Van Pelt, I want you to look for surveillance cameras in the neighborhood, try to map out a timeline. Cho, we'll go to the homeless shelter."

Everybody obeyed to her orders without complaint or hesitation.

~...~

"He was always a very nice man to be around, he really cared about someone's wellbeing," one of the social workers explained when Lisbon and Cho arrived at the shelter. "I don't understand who would do such a thing."

"Did he have any enemies?"

"No, that's why I don't understand."

Lisbon nodded. "Did he have any family left? Close friends perhaps?"

"Not that we know of. Agent Lisbon, you have to understand, he was always available to listen to everyone's stories, but he never once told any of us anything about himself."

"Alright. Any people here whom he interacted with more than others?"

The woman just shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Thank you for your help."

When the woman walked away, Lisbon turned towards Cho.

"There has to be something that can tell us who he is."

They interviewed a few other people but they came out none the wiser. This was not going to work, so they decided to call it quits.

"Agents," a man started, who was leaning against a wall, "perhaps I can help you."

Lisbon looked at Cho. He was probably wondering too why this man hadn't presented himself before. Nevertheless, if he had even a little bit of information, it would be better than nothing.

"You're going at this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

He pushed himself off the wall and stepped towards them.

"You walk in here bragging about your profession, but you forget most people here don't trust people like you."

Lisbon crossed her arms, already feeling defiance build up in her body. Perhaps accepting his help was a mistake after all. In any case, there was no turning back.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Well, don't."

She frowned, but gathered herself fast. He was wasting their time, she knew it. Was he doing this on purpose? Perhaps he had something to do with this case and he was trying to hide his involvement.

She had to investigate.

"I will be honest with you, Agents," he continued, "you need information, and I have that. I'm willing to give you what intell I know, in exchange for a little something I want, of course."

Lisbon looked at her coworker again, who was also wondering what was happening here.

"Which is?"

"All in good time. Do we have a deal?"

He extended his hand towards her, a smile on his lips. She immediately knew she didn't trust this man, but they had nothing at this point, and she wanted to close this case soon.

She shook his hand.

"I never caught your name," she said. He took back his hand, in the process of turning away from them.

"I didn't throw it." When he was a few feet away from them, he turned his head again. "You'll hear from me soon."

The last thing they could see of him were his peculiar blond curls, which, compared to the rest of his appearance, looked well-groomed.

"I feel like we just made a pact with the devil," she stated.

"Weirdo."

"Tell me about it. Let's go back to the office."

~...~

It became increasingly clear that their John Doe lived a relatively anonymous life, if they didn't know that already. All of the images gathered from the entire neighborhood showed nothing they didn't know already, although Van Pelt was on her way to map out his exact route for as much as they knew it.

The coroner's search for John's DNA came up empty, which signaled that he either had never come into contact with law enforcement, or had spent his entire life on the streets, never having had his identity registered.

Lisbon had treated this case as a standard one, but she realized that it really wasn't. Nobody knew who he was, or nobody bothered to make themselves known. It was one of Lisbon's fears, to die and have nobody remember you, or mourn your loss.

She knew, or rather hoped, that the team would remember her. They were the closest thing she had to a family, except for her actual family. They were too far away.

"So in summary, we have spent hours trying to find out who he is but we still have nothing." Her team looked as three puppies who were caught doing something they weren't supposed to, and it softened her mood. It did, however, confirm that they needed to do whatever they could to solve this mystery. "How are we supposed to know who murdered him when we don't even know who he is?"

"We could put a picture of him out to the media? Maybe somebody will recognize him, call us?" Van Pelt offered. She got the team's attention, all of their heads turning towards her. "It's just a suggestion."

"It could work. You focus on that." The younger woman smiled and it brought a smile to Lisbon's face, too. They were friends, but Van Pelt looked up to her, big time, like a girl might to her older sister. Lisbon often tried to be the best example she could be, but she still had to be the strict team leader from time to time. She hoped the woman understood how much she cared about her.

Lisbon turned to Cho. He seemed to know instantly what she was thinking about.

"We should contact the weirdo," Cho stated.

"I agree. I feel like it will turn out to be a huge waste of time, though."

They would just have to wait and see. After all, her mother had always taught her not to judge a book by its cover.

~...~

As she stepped out of the office building, wrapping her scarf tightly around her neck to prevent herself from getting too cold, she should have been surprised when she saw the mysterious stranger on the corner of the street, no doubt awaiting her.

He pulled up his collar too, and pretended to walk away. She rushed to walk beside him.

"So what is it that you want?"

"Little curious, aren't you?" He looked over at her, then at the ground in front of them. "Don't you want to know what information I have for you?"

"I feel like you're not going to say it before I give you what you want."

He smiled, and she knew her suspicions were confirmed. He suddenly turned into a side alley, and she followed him. He was definitely abusing his long legs to perhaps try and shake her off. Then again, it had been him who had contacted her.

"Do you know anything of homelessness, agent?"

"No, not really." She felt a little ashamed to admit it, but really, how was she supposed to know what it was like? She had never been homeless, so she had no knowledge of homelessness, and therefore, no right to judge it.

"It's asking people for money, or a place to sleep at, time and time again, even if you know you're making people feel uncomfortable. It's having to wear clothes you would normally never wear. It's a lonely life, agent. But some people like it that way."

She waited until he was finished to look at him again.

"How about you?"

He nodded. "I like it, too. Being anonymous, I mean." He paused and looked at her. "It was the same for your John Doe. He lived a hundred percent anonymously. Nobody knew his actual name."

His following silence got her attention, and she raised an eyebrow.

"But you do, don't you?"

He didn't respond in the slightest, and she sighed. Did she have to invest in this man for this case to be solved?

"What is it you want?"

His smile returned and he looked down to his feet, making her look down, too. He lifted his pants a little, and she saw bare ankles in old-school leather shoes. Did he have no socks? It was so cold out here!

"I'll buy you socks, then."

He nodded. "Good. It's nice doing business with you, agent."

Before he turned to no doubt walk away from her, she stopped him. "Wait. Will you ever tell me your name?"

"It's on the list of my information. Point four, I think." With that, he walked away, and she was left none the wiser than before she had met him this instant.

So she found herself shopping for men's socks that afternoon, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

~...~

The next day it turned out that the team hadn't gotten anywhere, but it really wasn't their fault. It was a tough case to crack, so if they had trouble finding ties that connected, it just showed they were human.

"I didn't get anything out of our weirdo yet. I feel like something is off with him, one way or another."

Cho nodded, but he was still the only one who knew of the stranger's involvement. Seeing how confused her other two coworkers looked, she explained the situation.

"So he came up to you being all mysterious and you bought it?" Van Pelt asked, an eyebrow raised like always when she was seriously judging somebody.

"We don't have any other leads, do we?" Lisbon answered almost defensively. She did not care for people who questioned her actions. "Where are you with the pictures?"

Van Pelt looked down at her desk. "Nobody reported yet."

"Alright. Well, if anyone is looking for me, I'll be in my office."

She hoped she could rely on her team like she always had, so they could solve this case.

~...~

She was expecting the man to be awaiting her again, like the day before, but she was surprised when she couldn't find him anywhere. Perhaps he was pulling back, but at the same time she knew that that wouldn't really be happening. She hardly knew him, but she did have the feeling that he was stubborn, like her, and that he was arrogant.

She decided that if he was wasting her time today, too, that she would give him his damn socks and never contact him again. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that he was just playing her, and she didn't have time for that.

She went back to the alley where the man and her had been the day before, and there he was sitting, against a wall, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His hands were folded on his lap, and his eyes were closed. Something, however, told her that he wasn't asleep.

She stood in front of him, crossing her arms, too.

"Ah, agent." He opened his eyes. She wouldn't even ask how he knew it was her.

"I have your socks."

Her words brought a smile to his lips, and he got up, stretching a little and straightening his clothes.

"Let's go somewhere else, then."

They walked a few blocks, further away from the office, and she got the feeling he might be planning to take her to a remote area and kill her. Yet just as she was about to question his actions, he pointed to a small café, looking very rustic on the outside, exactly the kind of place she would expect a man like him to go to.

"Are you taking advantage of my money?" she questioned him, not even teasing, not even a little.

His usually happy facade dropped, and he averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression." He stayed silent for a while, and she was thinking of what she could say, too. Still, she didn't want him to keep her in suspense, only for this to turn out to be a huge waste of time. "I haven't had somebody to talk to in a while."

He shook his head, looking at her again.

"Anyway, I know the owner. He owes me."

She sighed and nodded, and he let her enter the building before him. He guided them to a little table in a remote corner, and signaled for her to sit down.

He sat in front of her, and he remained silent for a long time.

She put the socks on the table, and he looked at them, a small smile spreading on his lips. He slipped it onto his lap, out of view from everyone.

"His name was Martin Diaz," he started, looking down at the socks in his lap. "I was one of the few people he sometimes contacted. He was… a little paranoid. He always talked about how people were plotting against him."

"Did you never think that he might be right?"

He shook his head. "I know. He's dead now. Perhaps he was right after all."

She nodded, and at that point, a waitress showed up at their table.

"Anything I can get you?"

The man nodded and got up. The young woman looked confused, especially when he walked into the direction of the kitchen. An older man emerged from a little office and they met, hugging, before Lisbon's stranger started making his own drink.

When the waitress turned back to Lisbon, it was obvious that she was still confused. You and me both, Lisbon thought.

"I would like some coffee, please."

"Milk, sugar?"

"No, nothing. Just black."

After a few minutes, when Lisbon's cup of coffee was almost empty, her stranger came back.

He settled back down with a steaming cup of tea, and she watched as he enjoyed it thoroughly, closing his eyes in bliss as he smelled its aroma.

"Who are you exactly, Sir?"

He opened his eyes.

"I will tell you my name if you will tell me yours."

She reached for her badge, but he shook his head.

"Just your name."

"Teresa Lisbon."

He took a sip of his tea. She averted her eyes.

"That's a nice name." He extended his hand, and when she looked back at him, she shook his hand.

"Patrick Jane."

He continued his cup of tea, and they sat like that for a while, and Lisbon felt increasingly uncomfortable not to be talking at all. She didn't know him well, but she did know that he was odd.

"I have had suspicions that Martin might be right, but I didn't want to believe he only paranoid about people hurting him? Or was there more to it? His death has confirmed something for me."

He didn't finish his thought. She looked at him expectantly. When it took him too long to continue, she let her curiosity be known.

"Which is?"

"I fear there might be more to this case than we think." He looked into her eyes. "Agent, I think there might be someone amongst the homeless in this city who wants to hurt them all."

"That's a wild theory. What makes you think that?"

"Martin didn't have any enemies. I cannot think of anyone who would want to kill him, so it was not a passionate crime, which leads me to believe that this is a hate crime."

She nodded. "Could be true. Yet so far, only one person died. It does not show a distinct pattern."

"But there will be."

She sighed and looked down at her mug. He could be right, but it was still a far-fetched idea. Not that it wasn't worth it to investigate, so she would. In any case, she realized that this man, Patrick Jane, likely had nothing to lose, so he didn't have any reason to lie.

"Alright. Thank you for your insight. We'll look into the possibility."

He nodded, but something about his expression told her that he wasn't finished yet.

"I could, of course, investigate for you. I know the area, and people know me. It won't be suspicious if I ask people some questions." He smiled a little. "I could be your confidential informant."

"Or a consultant?"

"I like how you think." He leaned towards her, his arms resting on the table top. "So what do you think, Agent Lisbon?"

And she felt she made a big mistake, but this was all they had right now to bring them closer to closing this case. Therefore, this was the only thing that she could do.

"Fine."

His smile confirmed her suspicions.

~...~

They went days without hearing anything from Patrick Jane, and it was making Lisbon worried a little. After all, if his suspicions were right, he could be in very grave danger, and she didn't want to be the one responsible for an unnecessary death.

She was watching TV one night, postponing going to bed, when she heard knocks coming from her front door. She frowned, considering nobody really visited her at home and especially at this ungodly hour.

She found none other than Patrick Jane at her door, his face torn up, blood in his blond curls, and he was slumped to one side.

"I'm sorry that I know where you live," he breathed, "and that I'm coming to you in the first place."

She shook her head, already motioning for him to step inside. She made him sit on her couch and went to get towels and some water.

When she came back, he had his head in his hands, and he was taking in deep breaths. She knelt in front of him, making him look up at her.

"What did you do?"

"Agent Lisbon," he stated, "It's much bigger than we thought."

"In what way?"

"It's an organization, I think. There have been some people who had been acting weird after Martin's death, and it drew my attention to them."

She dipped the towel into the water and started tracing his face with it. He flinched when she touched his right eye, which was obviously bruised.

"When I began talking to them about his death, they got nervous. And then, this happened," he stated, pointing at his face. She sighed and continued cleaning him up.

"I never should have let you do this."

"No, it's good. We needed this. I know names, you can arrest them."

"I can't arrest them without any evidence. Besides, how would we be able to prove that they killed Diaz?"

"With a confession?"

"We don't have that yet."

"Ah," he stated, and she thought she was hurting him with her touch, but instead he reached into his pocket and got out a phone. "You're wrong there, Agent Lisbon."

He showed her the images that didn't clearly show that one of the people he had been following committed to have killed Diaz, but it did confirm most points. It was enough to bring them in for questioning.

"Well," she started, "I hate to say 'good job', but… good job. Except for getting beat up."

He chuckled. It sounded kind of pleasant.

"It's not the first time. I have that effect on people."

"I figured." She brushed the last traces of blood off his face, and then lowered her hands. "You can stay here for the night, if you want to, of course."

He shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I was not made for a warm house."

He got up, feeling the injuries in his face. He winced a little, and she was fighting the urge to let him stay, force him even, but she knew she couldn't. Why would she, even? For all she knew, he might still be lying to her, plotting to kill her.

Call her paranoid, but it wouldn't be the first time that somebody hurt her feelings.

"Do you want some tea, then?"

"I would like that. Thank you, agent Lisbon."

"Please," she said, walking towards her kitchen, "just call me Lisbon."

"In that case, you can call me Jane."

He had his tea in relative silence, while she was looking at him. For the first time since meeting him, she took in his appearance, which despite her initial reluctance to admit it and his current injuries, was quite satisfying to look at. His blond strands of hair framed his face, which even though were long and probably hadn't been cut in a while, were well-groomed, something she had noticed before. Perhaps he valued the way he looked, but then again, there was a stubble on his jaw. No, not a stubble, it was a developing beard, but it looked good on him, even if she had never been a supporter of blond men growing beards. His eyes were relatively small, but they spoke to her, an entire story behind them, waiting to be told. The corners of his lips seemed to be permanently turned upwards in an eternal smile, even if there was an air of sadness hanging around him, no doubt in connection to the story in his eyes.

What had happened to him to end up living on the streets? She knew sometimes the tiniest thing could force someone out of their homes, but from the moment they had met, he had given her the impression that he didn't mind his current state of life.

But still. What had happened?

"Lisbon, you fascinate me."

"How so?"

He shook his head. "You just do."

He got up and went to put his cup in the sink, reducing the work she had to do to clean it up to a minimum. He walked to the front door, his step still altered due to his injuries, and turned towards her.

"Thank you, Lisbon."

"You're welcome, Jane."

He nodded and left her place, and for some reason, everything in her screamed to stop him, force him to stay here, anywhere but not there, on the cold streets, where they suspected was a very real danger. Yet she couldn't do it.

~...~

They worked like that for a while, with Jane disappearing for what seemed like ages, not giving her any information on where he was and if he had any news. When they did meet, they usually sat in the little café that she was getting so used to. He had come across as arrogant when they had first met, but she was slowly learning he was a nice guy. He had his oddities, but they made him more interesting, not just a bland, standard man. She found herself wanting to find out a bit more about himself as a person, outside of this case they were working on.

Supervising Agent Virgil Minelli was up her ass with his whining, wanting this case to be closed. The public was getting increasingly worried, especially when it leaked that all of the homeless in this city, no exception, were at risk. She understood, but there was nothing she could do.

They found another body, but this time, it was clear who it was - Minnie Stokes. Her age was undetermined, but after putting out a picture of her to the news stations, a relative presented itself fast. She was bawling her eyes out, but Lisbon didn't believe any of it.

What had happened to make her trust so little people? Her own personal tragedy had happened way back, almost a lifetime ago, so it couldn't be that. She realized that she wanted to make a difference in her patterns, but soon found that she already had - she had trusted Patrick Jane, without him giving her any reason to trust him. Even if she was still bracing herself for betrayal, she felt that this was not going to go wrong.

"What the hell is that Jane person doing anyway? Why can't he tell us anything about his findings? And does he even know that we found another body?"

"Sir, with all due respect, you need to calm down. He's working on it, but it takes time."

If looks could kill, she would be so dead by now. He sighed and sat down at his desk, leaning on its surface, his usual stance when he would tell her off like she was just a girl. She knew he did it with love.

This time, however, she wasn't bothered by his glare at all, nor did his words really register.

"You trust him, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How so?"

She shrugged, looking at that familiar coffee stain on the carpet, one Minelli hadn't bothered cleaning up and now served as the perfect way to avoid his harsh eyes.

"I don't know. I just do." She sighed. "Everything he's told me so far is true. He said that there would be another body, and there is. He said that the people he fought with knew more, and they pointed us to Stokes. I know we don't have any certainty that he won't bail, but… I trust him."

"Well… your instincts have rarely been wrong, so if you trust him, so do I. However, if he doesn't have anything new by the end of this week, I will call off the cooperation."

"Of course, Sir."

"Lisbon, for the love of God," he started whining, "how many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Minelli."

She just smiled and left his office, continuing to her own.

As she sat down, Minelli's words didn't leave her thoughts. It _was_ odd that she trusted Patrick Jane - so why did she?

~...~

She got mail, which surprised her because she never did. She realized she might be a bit lonely and excluded from most people, if a simple letter shocked her.

She opened it, but all there was inside were a couple of newspaper articles, and she was ready to throw it away as spam mail when her eyes landed on a familiar name - Patrick Jane.

The articles explained how he lost his wife and child, although their names weren't mentioned. While reading the pieces, Lisbon had to fight back tears.

Was this what had caused him to end up on the streets? This probably did explain the air of sadness she had felt before.

All of this newly acquired information made her want him to contact her even more, if only so she could make sure he wouldn't do something stupid.

~...~

Every time she thought that she might get a word from Jane, she didn't. It remained awfully silent on his part, and her worry grew to an extreme, something she hadn't felt in a while, if at all.

Until one night, much like the night when he had showed up at her door, she got an anonymous phone call. She really didn't need to pick it up to know who it was.

"Where are you, dammit?"

"Lisbon, I'm in deep trouble. Even worse than before. I… I might die today."

"What? Why? Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter now. I just… wanted to talk to you."

"Me? Why me?"

"Why not you? You're quite the most extraordinary woman I've met in ages."

"Jane, what are you talking about?"

"Turn on the TV."

She did as he told her, and she was instantly met with a chaos, police sirens, people crying. She recognized that place - it was the street where she had met Jane for the first time.

"They were on to me, Lisbon. They followed me, cornered me, and then when somebody stepped in to help me… they snapped, I guess. Started screaming and waving their guns until they passed the threshold and actually started shooting. I hope… I hope that they didn't kill anybody, not for me."

"Where are you?"

And finally, he answered her, causing her to rush out of her apartment and almost use her blue lights to get to the stated address as soon as possible.

When she got there, it was awfully silent, none of the alarms and crying she had seen on the TV. She found Jane sitting on the ground, in much the same position as she had days ago, his head in his hands.

"Aren't you supposed to be checked up by paramedics?"

His head shot up and their eyes linked. She saw that there were tears in them, and it shocked her. He had shown her distress before, but there had never been tears.

"Lisbon," he breathed.

"Hey. It's me." He got up and walked towards her.

"I'm so happy to see you."

She frowned but didn't inquire further. He didn't say anything else either.

"How are your injuries?"

"I will probably die."

She stepped close until she could touch his face, and she didn't find any severe injuries, not even when she pulled back his jacket to look at his underlying shirt. He was bleeding, but it wasn't anything life threatening.

"You will live."

He cracked a little smile, and she did the same.

"Thank goodness, then."

"Come with me to my house. We'll clean you up, and you can sleep."

He agreed, and she supported him as they walked to her car.

~...~

"Cho, I want you to go to the scene, talk to law enforcement. Take the guys with you, if they're ready."

"Will you be there?"

She looked at Jane, who was shedding his jacket, wincing at the pain that movement brought him.

"No, I'm… otherwise occupied."

It remained silent on the other side. Lisbon was still looking at Jane who was acting like a child, whining and moaning. It made her want to roll her eyes, so she did.

"I'll call you if we have anything new."

"Thanks for understanding."

"Just be careful with him, alright. Don't get your heart broken."

She frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She returned to Jane when she was done with her phone call, feeling a little guilty that she was leaving the case up to her team, but they could use the responsibility change. Lisbon knew that the case was pretty much closed, with local law enforcement having arrested Jane's attackers and the chance slim to nil that they weren't behind the murders. They should have an easy evening.

"Let me look at your injuries," she stated, and he showed himself entirely to her. He was still wearing his shirt, and in order for her to see how severe the wounds were, he had to take off his shirt. She motioned something that would do as a signal that he needed to undress from the hips up, and he complied.

She carefully studied his chest, looking for anything that might indicate a deeper underlying issue, but she found none.

"Teresa," he whispered out of nowhere, and the use of her first name startled her, nobody had called her that in a while, not like this. "I want to thank you for your kindness."

She shook her head.

"I've not had much lately."

"Just doing my job."

He raised an eyebrow looking down at his naked chest. "Do you do this with everybody who offers their help on one of your cases?"

"Jane, you're injured. It's only human that I help you out."

He looked her in the eyes, and he held her gaze for a long time, forcing her to look into his stormy green eyes. Part of his story was told by the mysterious newspaper articles, but there was still so much to him that she did not know. Still, somehow his eyes made her feel calm, like being in a clear ocean, surrounded by protection and clear beauty.

"Nobody else helped me, though. Only you did."

She decided not to answer him anymore. She might do something she would definitely regret.

~...~

Before she retired to bed, she got a phone call from Cho, telling her that they had caught the killers and that they had a suspicion plus detailed evidence. Under Cho's intense stare, they had revealed a long list of people who were involved, hopefully making it easy to bring down the organization, if there even was one.

"Good job. Go home, rest. We'll round up the case first thing tomorrow morning."

"Will do."

She wasn't even a little bit surprised when Jane was standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

"I will be leaving, then."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"My services are needed elsewhere. There is nothing that is keeping me here, anyway."

Well. Something in her body told her that that wasn't true. Perhaps he could stay for her, but then again, why would he? They hardly knew each other, just names and his tragic history. Still, he could be useful to the team, and despite his mysteries he had solved this case sooner than they could ever have.

If she would accept him into her team, she would definitely solve her cases faster, but it wouldn't be the easy, uncomplicated life she had known before.

"I could use someone with your skills on my team."

"And which skills are they, exactly?"

"Knowledge of human nature, good instincts, quick brain."

He smiled, if only a little. She could see too that he had his mind set on leaving, and if she had learned anything of the type of man she suspected him to be, it would be that she would never be able to change his mind.

"You flatter me, Agent Lisbon." He looked down at his feet. "I'm very difficult to work with."

"I know."

He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

"I will think about it."

"You'll know where to find me. You can always contact me, for anything you want."

"I will remember that."

She stood and walked towards him.

"Will you at least stay for the night?"

"If you want me to, I'll stay."

She nodded. They didn't say a lot for the remainder of the evening, until they both retired to bed. He was preparing himself for bed, and she was looking at the routine from a distance, hoping he didn't see her but knowing that he would likely sense her presence.

He really was a beautiful man, and she didn't know whether she had admitted it to herself before. Everything about him seemed to be perfect, making her feel things she honestly shouldn't.

Where did these feelings come from? She didn't even know what to name them. Was she just hopeless because no man had behaved like this around her for a while? She did love mysteries, and he was a textbook example.

She had a suspicion, of course. She knew he was good looking, and she was single. But she wouldn't allow herself to think like that, _feel_ like that. She owed it to herself as well as to him.

"You can come closer."

"I don't mean to invade your privacy."

"I'm in your home. If anyone is invading, it's me."

He lay down on the couch, and it felt like the most normal thing to do, to watch him settle in there. When he was finished, and he was laying down, she sat down on the edge of the couch.

"I don't deserve your kindness."

"But you'll get it anyway."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I needed your help, which you gave. Now, you'll get my help."

He fell silent, and she saw his eyes twinkle, that story that was behind them changing in front of her, like something snapping, clicking into place.

"You are so special, Teresa Lisbon. How did the world come up with you?"

His words did things to her she couldn't explain. It was odd, almost inexplicable, how one moment could change everything you ever knew and understood. This man, laying on her couch, meant something to her she didn't have words for, even if she hardly knew him.

"Will you really leave?"

He nodded. Her hand moved then, on its own accord, tracing his face, committing all of the lines to memory, the stubble on his chin, his jawline, everything she could find.

"Somewhere out there is a man who will make you very, very happy."

"Who's saying that I haven't already found him?"

He raised an eyebrow at that.

"So where is he?"

 _Closer than you think._

She shrugged. "Don't assume I'm lonely."

"I didn't. Or, I did. I'm sorry." He shook his head, as though he was trying to get that horrible thought out of his mind. His curls seemed to fly in all directions.

Everything was clear to her in that moment, and it brought a mixed feeling. She had always fallen for the impossible ones.

Her hand slowly slipped into his hair without her realizing it, and she saw his lips curl into a shy smile, before he dropped it when he no doubt realized what they were not.

He sat up straight then, his body impossibly close to hers, his sweet breath on her face.

"Would you ever be able to love a man as troubled as I am?"

"I… I believe I already do."

His hand reached up to brush her face, not unlike she had done moments before. She knew what the feeling was now. It was small, like a cashew nut, but it was there, despite its size frightening her to no end.

"I'm… scared of this feeling," she whispered. Her heart was soaring with him so close to her, and she wanted to tell him everything she was feeling, all of the words rushing out, but it would make this real, permanent even.

"What are you feeling?"

She didn't want to feel this. Too many people had misused her trust, and she never wanted anyone to hurt her ever again. She didn't know this man, not enough to be developing feelings like these.

"Did I hit a nerve?"

She shook her head. "I haven't felt this way in a while."

"Hey," he whispered. "You're safe with me. Okay? I'm inexperienced with this, but… I won't hurt you."

He paused, looking into her eyes, and it made her relax, relieved that she could open up her heart for him. She still didn't know if she could trust him, but she would try to.

"Let's slow down. Have a good night's sleep, and if you want to, we can talk again in the morning."

"Will you still be here, then?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

She got up to leave, and before she exited the room, she turned towards him. He was looking at her, something in his eyes felt like her future, whether it be the very near or very distant future.

"Good night."

"You too, Teresa Lisbon."

~...~

She awoke with a childish feeling of glee in her lower belly, like waking up Christmas morning to run to the tree and find all her presents that she could unbox.

She passed a mirror and straightened out her hair, which had been tangled in her sleep.

She was excited to go to her living room and continue last night's talk. She had decided, as she had settled in the night before, that she would do anything to make them work, even if she didn't trust him fully, and even if they hardly knew each other. She liked looking at him, a lot, and she wanted to be close to him, no matter how they would fill it in.

As she stepped into the living room, she half expected him to be gone, because that was who he was, even if he had promised her to stay. She was pleasantly surprised to find him still there, fast asleep, in all his angelic glory. He looked so peaceful, indeed much like an angel, his blond curls only emphasizing the picture.

She sat down on the edge like she had the night before, and her hand reached out almost on instinct, touching his face once again, and she smiled despite herself. She wanted to be with him, but why she did not know. Perhaps she needed to let go of the knowledge that they only knew each other for about two weeks. What had happened to love at first sight?

Wait. Did she love him? It was too early for that. She liked him, and she was attracted to him. She would see where they would go, if he even felt the same way.

A day ago, she didn't even know that she might like him, and now, she was making plans in her head about wanting to stay with him. This was likely the reason she was so susceptible to heartache.

His eyes opened slowly, and his sleepy gaze seemed to take her in, his face all seriousness even if he was still trying to brush away his sleepiness. When his gaze landed on her smiling lips, the feeling seemingly transferred to him, his lips turning into a lovely smile, too.

"Okay," he croaked, sitting up a little. "I like waking up like this."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Hmmm…" He closed his eyes for a while, and she looked at him, both wondering what he would do next and what he was thinking. "Will you lay with me?"

"Will we do something we'll both regret?"

"Not if you don't want to."

She moved down until she was laying on the couch, too, their faces mere inches apart.

She was happy being so close to him. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt about anyone like this, let alone a man. She had been alone for so long, and she had never expected to ever be with somebody again. Perhaps that was the reason she was subconsciously reluctant to commit herself now.

She'd had her heart broken many times before. Her heart had to have found a way to protect itself.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," he whispered. "I love looking at them."

For him, she would open her heart. It seemed to be telling her that she could trust him.

~...~

They didn't do anything else other than looking at each other, and talking about nothing significant. He made her tea, and she appreciated this little bit of intimacy, even if to an outsider it didn't mean anything. To her, it meant the world.

She walked him to her front door, and he smiled at her, as though all his worries were cleared from his head, showing her his beautiful grin.

"I know I said that I would leave," he started, "but I've changed my mind."

"Oh?"

He nodded. He stepped towards her and kissed her forehead, and it was the first kiss he had given her, at least to her knowledge. It made her feel safe and loved, and even if they had never spoken the words, it made her realize that her feelings for him might be reciprocated. The way he held her, like a porcelain doll, the way his words seemed to escape him without thought, sometimes stammered but always well-meant. It showed her how he really felt.

"You'll be seeing me around, Teresa Lisbon."

"I can't wait."

He left her house then, and she really meant it, she couldn't wait until he was back here. If only so she could see his beautiful smile once more.

~...~

They rounded up the case quite quickly, with the confessions of their suspects and countless of witness reports, including Jane's proving to be very useful. She was just filling in the necessary paperwork, winding down a little from the stressful case, when Minelli stepped into her office.

"Agent Lisbon," he started, causing her to look up. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course."

He sat down in the chair that was situated in front of her desk, and it felt odd to have him sit there, while it was usually the other way around.

"I want to apologize for not trusting Mr. Jane."

"That's okay."

He shook his head. "No, it's not. If you had listened to me, we would probably still be working on this case. I wouldn't have known what to tell the press. I just want to say thank you, for not following my instructions."

She smiled faintly. She shouldn't have trusted Jane, that was what all her instincts had told her, but she hadn't been able to keep him away from the case. Now, he was not only involved in this murder case, but also with herself personally.

"You can always count on me for that."

He chuckled, but sobered up quickly. He looked at her face, and it felt a little uncomfortable to be inspected so thoroughly, especially since she didn't know what he was thinking.

"If Mr. Jane is interested in a position within our division… he's more than welcome."

"I don't think that he would want that, Sir. With all due respect, he's not made for a permanent job."

"He could do some freelancing."

She sighed, but nodded. "I will propose it to him."

They were silent for a while, and he crossed his arms, sighing too.  
"I don't trust him."

"I know."

"But you do."

"To a degree, yes."

He shook his head. "Why?"

"I don't know." Images of his smile flashed before her eyes, how his hands caressed her face so gently, the butterflies it sent to her belly. She couldn't say that she loved him, now could she? She wasn't even sure of the fact herself.

She had been alone for so long, she didn't even know what loving someone could feel like. Was it this? He hadn't made her knees shake, or her words come out all messed up. Then again, she wasn't such an inexperienced teenager when it came to love, giggling whenever he appeared around the corner. She had loved before, after all.

"I just do."

He nodded. "Alright. Just be careful."

Why did everybody keep saying that? Was she seriously the only person who trusted Patrick Jane? He had never shown her that he couldn't be trusted, had always reported back to her no matter how long it might take sometimes, and no matter how frightening his radio silence might be for her. He always came back, and he had solved this case for her, them.

They should be on their knees thanking him. Instead, his only thanks was their distrust.

~...~

Days, weeks almost passed in which she didn't hear anything from Patrick Jane. By now, she was used it. After all, he had decided to leave, but something had made him change his mind. She wasn't sure what it was, hoped that it could be her, but he probably needed some time to think.

She received a single rose on her doorstep one lonely Sunday, and it warmed her entire body, made her smile involuntarily, her heart opening up.

There was a small note attached to the flower, and her hands were shaking a little when she turned it so she could read it.

 _Still thinking about you. Your Patrick Jane._

She looked up, hoping that she could still catch a glimpse of him, and she saw him standing at the corner of the street, looking up at her. She could swear that she saw him smile, and she waved at him, earning her a wave, too.

When he walked away, she closed the door behind her, and her eyes landed on the rose in her hand.

She loved him. She knew it had been clear for a while now, but she had been afraid to admit it, even to herself. But this rose, his smile… yes. She loved him. It would be the death of her, but not committing to this feeling would likely leave her so unhappy she would never be able to live a normal life.

~...~

One afternoon, he showed up at her doorstep, and he was carrying that beautiful smile of his, which would make her do anything for him.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here," he started.

She instantly shook her head, and motioned for him to step inside. Was she too needy now? She didn't want to pressure him, but with her latest revelation about her feelings for him, she couldn't wait to have him here with her again.

"Can I take a shower here? I'm sorry I'm using your facilities like this, but…"

He had nothing. He didn't have a place to stay that he could call his, nowhere he knew for certain that he was safe.

"You can always come to me. You know that."

He nodded. "I know. But it always feels like I'm taking advantage of you. I have nothing to give you in return."

"That's not true." She looked at the rose that he had left her days before, still in a glass of water for a lack of a proper vase. When she looked back at him, his eyes were twinkling again.

"I wish I had more to offer you."

She shook her head again, and motioned for him to move to her bathroom. They didn't have to have this conversation now, especially since she would never be able to convince him that she didn't need anything materialistic from him. His attention was more than enough.

He seemed to sense her thoughts, because he didn't say anything more before he went to shower. She put up a kettle for when he was finished, and waited for him to come back to the living room.

He did, wearing only his shirt on top of his pants as opposed to his usual worn down jacket and vest, and she saw a clear blush on his cheeks, likely from the warm shower he had just had. His curls were standing in all directions, making her realize that he probably groomed them well everyday. She had never seen them like this.

"I could make you some tea."

"I would love that. Milk first, please."

She chuckled at his demands, but she would do it anyway. When she returned, she handed him his cup. He looked up at her and smiled. As he extended his hand to reach for his tea, their fingers touched, and it felt like a spark went through both of them. They had touched before, but it had never felt so important as it did now.

They finished their tea in silence, looking at each other intensely for long moments, and she took in his entire appearance like she would never see him again - and it was probably not so far from the truth. After all, he hadn't been around often, but she couldn't blame him. You couldn't really tie down someone who had been living on the streets for years. Whatever time she could get with him, she would cherish.

He took her hand when they had finished their tea, and she looked at the place where they were joined, his hand so big compared to hers. She was so intrigued by the image, she didn't even notice that he slowly scooted towards her until he was nearly flush against her.

"Teresa," he whispered. She reached out to caress his still damp hair, pulling on the curls a little. She loved their texture. "We are coming closer to the point of no return."

"In what way?"

"Us," he replied. "I… I want to give you what you deserve, but… at the same time, I want to be with you. I'm not the man you're supposed to be with, Teresa. I own nothing but the clothes I'm wearing."

"It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it? I know you like to receive presents, be surprised by your lover with fancy dinners at expensive restaurants. I'll never be able to give you that."

She shook her head, putting a hand on his cheek.

"No. You're wrong. I would never need anything more from you if I can have your love."

"Will my love ever be enough?"

"Yes."

He reached for her hand again, and she lifted it, kissing the top of his hand. He pulled her towards him until she could slip into his lap, and on pure instinct she put a hand in the back of his neck, the other tracing the blush on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath.

"I want to clear something up," he whispered. She shook her head but he didn't stop. "You're not an easy lay to me. I have been alone for so long I don't know how to love anymore. Which makes this all the more meaningful to me. And Teresa, if you ever feel unhappy while I'm by your side, I want you to tell me. Immediately."

"Patrick," she whispered, "please stop talking."

"Okay," he breathed. She slowly leaned down and kissed him, so tenderly, like she was afraid that he would dissolve underneath her, turning out to be just another ridiculous daydream. She was thrown into reality when his arms wrapped around her tightly, and she felt his need to hug her close, like her own fears.

She felt his soul pour into hers, melting into one, and his hands passionately roaming her body lit up a fire within her that caused him to be too far apart, wanting him closer.

She gasped as his hands went down to her bottom, and she pulled away, looking into his eyes, even more like stormy seas than usual, but there was something more this time. A deep kind of love, something she had never seen in anybody's eyes while looking at her.

"Oh." He pulled her close, one of his hands in the back of her neck, and she placed her head on his shoulder, taking in his scent. "I love you, Teresa. I'm sorry that I'm the man that I am."

"I wouldn't love you if you weren't who you are."

She wished she could say something to clear his insecurities, but there was nothing that would do her feelings any justice.

"You love me?" he whispered. She looked at his face, kissing his forehead.

"You leave me no choice," she replied, and her words brought a smile to his lips, and she wanted him to stay like this, forever locked in happiness, especially when a little chuckle escaped him.

"Will you stay with me tonight? We don't have to do anything. I just… don't want you to be out on the streets tonight. I don't want you to be alone."

He nodded, and kissed her again, his hands cherishing her. God. She was proud of herself for opening up to him. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have his arms around her so tight, his kisses, his sweet smile.

He carried her to her bedroom, and there they kissed some more, until both were too sleepy to continue. She fell asleep in his arms with the knowledge that even though he might be gone in the morning, at least she had him here, tonight, for as long as the night lasted.

~...~

She awoke when the sun had only barely illuminated the inside of her bedroom, and the first thing she noticed were gentle fingers on her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She opened her eyes to find Patrick Jane mere inches from her face.

"Good morning," he whispered, and her face lit up with all the happiness she was feeling inside, the love she felt for him. "My beautiful Teresa."

She moved her hand to caress his chest, and found that he was fully clothed yet again. A pang of sadness threatened to overtake her body, but she didn't let it. She knew who he was, and what he was like. She couldn't force him to stay.

"You're leaving," she stated. He nodded.

She pulled him close by the lapels of his jacket and kissed his lips, her mind still clouded by sleep, but she forced her way through its daze, wanting to feel him one more time before he would leave her for an undetermined period of time.

"I didn't want to go before seeing you awake."

She cupped both his cheeks, looking into his eyes intently. He had opened himself to her, so she would do the same for him.

"Wherever you'll go," she whispered, "just be careful, alright? I don't want to see you on the news, unless you have saved a cat from a tree or something."

That made him chuckle, and she held onto that, his beauty, his sweetness, everything that he was and ever would be.

"Will you come back?"

"I will always come back to you, Teresa," he whispered. "It just might take some time."

"Then time is what I will give you."

He shook his head. His hand brushed the side of her head, down into her hair.

"No. You give me way more than time."

She didn't need words to explain his meaning. Everything was in his eyes.

"The offer to work with me still stands, by the way. Should you ever feel bored, we always have a case to work on."

"I'm considering it."

"Good."

His hands were on her face then, cupping her cheeks, and she couldn't keep herself from kissing him, she couldn't get enough. She didn't know when he would be back, it could be days, weeks, she didn't know if she could survive without him for so long, but she would try. She would try, and fail, but she didn't have another option.

"I love you," she whispered. Those words were alien on her tongue, not having been uttered for years, not with this intensity anyway. The words meant alot to her, and she hoped they meant the same to him, too. "Be careful."

"I love you, too, sweet Teresa Lisbon." He kissed her forehead. With that, he left her bedroom, stopping at the doorway for a few seconds to look back at her.

"You don't have to leave. You can stay here, with me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

He didn't answer her, and left the room. She sank back into her pillow, pulling up the blankets to cover her face. She could try to tie him down, but it wouldn't be fair, to neither of them. She would just have to live with the idea that he would be apart from her more than that he would be close.

~...~

She had work today, but so much had happened the night before that she felt she couldn't focus enough to step into her car. So she decided to walk there, it wasn't such a long trip, just about twenty minutes. Hopefully it would be enough to clear her head so she could focus on her work.

She noticed that people were looking at her, but not to judge her, just to greet her with a smile. It was odd, she had never experienced people being like this, especially not in this city.

Stepping into the bullpen, she smiled when she saw her team.

"Good morning," she stated, and she knew too that she sounded disturbingly cheerful, so she toned down her good mood until it was somewhere close to her usual mood.

Van Pelt smiled at her when their eyes met.

"You're in a good mood."

"I am?"

Lisbon wanted to prepare some tea in their little kitchen, but she never drank tea, only with Jane, so she settled with coffee. Just when she was about to go to her office, Van Pelt joined her.

The young woman was smiling at her, resembling a knowing smile of some sorts. Lisbon simply frowned and walked to her office.

"What happened?"

"Is it necessary for something to have happened in order for me to be in a good mood?"

"No. But I don't see you like this often. Whatever happened, it's good for you."

Lisbon shook her head and sat down at her desk. Van Pelt remained at her door for a few moments.

"Are you in love?"

"Grace… nothing happened."

"You are, though, aren't you?"

Lisbon couldn't keep her smile at bay at her best friend's good intentions, and she covered it up by lifting her cup of coffee to her lips.

"Whatever."

Van Pelt smiled, and Lisbon could tell that the woman was holding back her enthusiasm.

"I'm happy for you. You have to introduce me one day, alright?"

"I will try my best."

Van Pelt smiled one last time and left the office, and Lisbon's eyes followed the woman until she was sitting at her own desk.

Was it that obvious how she was feeling? She just chalked it up to the fact that her coworkers and especially Grace van Pelt knew her so well that they would notice any tiny change.

Perhaps he was good for her. In any case, she couldn't wait to see him again, and was curious when he would show up again.

After work, she found herself looking through her belongings to see if she had any clean blankets or clothes that she could spare. Blankets weren't that difficult, she had a couple of those, but clothes were more difficult to come by. Her brothers had left some on occasion when they had stayed with her, so these would have to do. Jane was a little broader than them, however. She hoped they would fit.

She also stopped by a local shop to stock up on water bottles, small chocolate bars and hats and scarfs. Somewhere along the road, it stopped being a gift to Patrick Jane, and it became more like a gift for people who were in a situation similar to his. She could help him by loving him, or at least she hoped, but she didn't have that love inside her for more than one person.

She stopped by the nearest homeless shelter she knew of and walked up to a volunteer.

"Yes, Ma'am? How may I help you?"

Lisbon lifted the bags that she was carrying and put it on the table. The woman looked stunned, but carefully opened each and every bag to see what was inside. Before she could say anything, Lisbon turned around to walk away. She didn't want a sticker as thanks. She just wanted the idea that another homeless person would have a better day.

"Ma'am, wait."

Lisbon didn't turn around, but she did stop walking away.

"We need volunteers at our shelter."

Lisbon let those words sink in, and looked over her shoulder at the woman who was looking at her expectantly.

"I will think about it."

"Thank you."

~...~

She settled on her couch that night with the blanket Jane had used that one night ages ago, and she was ready to start a movie, when she heard a knock on her door. She wrapped the blanket tightly around herself and went to open the door. She smiled when she found who was awaiting her.

"Hey," she whispered.

He grabbed the edges of the blanket and pulled her close, bowing down to link their lips. She felt her knees shake a little, and he noticed that too, for he wrapped his arms around her to hold her up.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips when she pulled away to take a breath.

"You saw me yesterday."

"It feels like it was ages ago."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, never wanting to let him go ever again. She would try her best to make him stay the night, even the morning, and she would die trying.

"Are you cold?"

"I always am."

"Let's warm you up then. Sit down, I'll make you some tea."

She did as he told her, and she was grateful that she could look into the kitchen easily, so she could observe him working around her place so effortlessly.

He might not be able to be tied down, but he sure looked good here, in her apartment, with her.

He sat down beside her with two cups of tea in his hands, and he encouraged her to settle into his side.

"Should think about getting you a key to this place, huh?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

She frowned and looked up at him, her heart constricting a little. Was he pulling away from her already?

"Why?"

"I… there's a reason I don't have many things of value. It's not as dangerous on the streets as people believe it is. But if I have such items, it makes me a target." He sighed. "In this case, not just me, but you as well. I don't want someone to break into your house in the middle of the night."

"I can protect myself."

"I know. But… the people that I live with, on the streets… they don't have anything to lose. I just… want to try and protect you, is all."

"Okay." She brushed his cheek. "I appreciate the concern."

They were silent for a while, and she looked at him occasionally, marveled at how he was enjoying his tea, such a small thing, almost meaningless to most people, but not to him. He loved his tea, maybe more than he loved her.

"Say, Jane," she started, "could anything I say convince you to stay?"

"I honestly don't know." He sighed. "I fear that the longer I will stay with you, the more difficult it will become to go back."

"So why do you feel like you need to go back?"

"I can't ask you to give up all your personal space."

"You don't need to ask."

"I know. But what if you find out after a while that what you feel for me now was merely superficial?"

"I haven't loved in a while, too. Just like you. No matter how early it is, this feels good. I don't want you to stop whatever it is we're having because you fear that it won't end well."

She took his empty cup and set it down on the table. He looked at her expectantly. She caressed his cheek.

"You don't have to ask to sleep here, or even shower or just drink some tea. You're always welcome."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

He brushed her cheek. "But why? I don't own anything."

"Patrick Jane. I won't love someone because of their wealth. I'll love someone because they are kind, sweet, funny, a little romantic… and they love me, too."

She kissed him, and he returned her love as enthusiastically as she did, maybe even more, until she was breathless and pulled away.

"Hey. Stop doubting yourself. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't allow you to even be here."

They sat like that for a while, until they decided to watch that movie she had been planning to watch. She settled into his side, her head on his shoulder, and she really focused on the storyline, but she felt her eyelids get droopy, slowly sinking into sleep.

The next thing she knew, she was in her warm bed, and her Patrick was tucking her in. Just as he was about to kiss her forehead, she pulled him down and kissed his lips.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep."

He shook his head. "I didn't like the movie anyway."

He lay down beside her, and her hands automatically reached out to touch him, yet this time she let her touch wander down, caressing his neck, and his hand covered hers. For a moment, she wondered if he was trying to stop her, because if he didn't want them to go further, she would stop immediately. Yet he moved her hand down, so she could touch his chest, and she gasped a little at his invitation, his bold movement, but right now she really didn't want to stop.

She pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips, but their kisses remained slow and gentle.

"Will we finish this?" she asked him.

"Only if you want to." His hands were on her hips, and they made her feel things she really shouldn't, but couldn't keep within her anymore. "Do you want to?"

"Yes."

He sat up, wrapped his arms around her tight and turned them around, so she was laying underneath.

She gave herself to him, like he handed himself to her. They rode out the waves of pleasure together, holding on to each other for dear life, and she knew that if he were to decide that he didn't want to stay, she would be ruined for the rest of her life. She would never be able to love someone as deeply and thoroughly as she did him.

None of this was his fault, however. She had accepted his help on their case, his presence floating around her, and eventually his kisses. Perhaps she had been so desperate to not be alone anymore, but then again, she was so far gone that she knew she wasn't lying to herself. She loved him. She couldn't help it.

Just as she was about to crash over the edge, tears burning in her eyes, she clutched his upper arms, as though he was her lifeline, her escape from the cold, dark water. "Don't leave me."

He kissed the skin in her neck, reassuring her that he was there. Still, she couldn't keep the tears at bay, but he was there, soothing her, calming her down for as much that was possible.

"I'm staying. I promise." He kissed her cheek, and they reached their climax together, in each other's arms, until neither could keep their eyes opened and they fell asleep.

~...~

She awoke with his face so close to hers, she didn't even need to move to kiss him. She looked at everything that made him Patrick Jane, so perfect, memories of what they had done together, shared, only emphasized in her head.

"I know it's still early," he whispered, startling her. Instead of letting her recover, he just wrapped his arms around her, "but I have to know; what kind of future do you envision with me, Teresa?"

She felt a lump in her throat. It was early in their relationship, but she wanted to have a future with him, would love waking up next to him like this more often.

"Do we have a future?" she asked him, rather testing him more than anything else.

"Don't we?"

"I like to believe that we do."

"I do, too."

They kissed, until they once again fell asleep, a peaceful slumber that had her dreaming about good things, him, them, a good future they might have together. He wanted a future with her, too. She was very lucky.

~...~

He woke her up with breakfast in bed, and she couldn't help but smile at him, his sweetness. He was a good cook, so he was definitely a keeper.

"I'm thinking of that opportunity," he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. "Working with you. I want to, but it feels so permanent."

"It doesn't have to be a nine to five job. You can come in whenever you want. We'll work something out concerning your payment."

He nodded. "I want to have a future with you, Teresa. I feel like I need to make adjustments for that."

She shrugged. His hand brushed her cheek again.

"May I ask you something, Patrick?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you find a job before?"

He was silent for seemingly forever. She didn't want to sound too bold, but she was really curious. It might even help him to move forward.

"I never had a goal. I only had myself to provide for, and I barely did that. Now I have something to work for."

"Which is?"

"Taking you out to a fancy restaurant."

She smiled and kissed him, forever amazed by his sweetness. He needed someone to ground him, take care of him maybe, because he apparently didn't do it himself. So maybe it was good that they had met. She would make sure he was safe and warm.

"Do you prefer Italian or tapas?"

"Patrick, let's just focus on getting you a job."

He smiled, but his eyes told her he was set on his plan.

~...~

He told her often in which neighborhood he would stay if he weren't with her, so she could check up on him from time to time. She always loved to see him, even if it was from a distance.

They had tea at the cafe where they had been before, and underneath the table, they were playing footsie. Above the table, she was briefing him about one of the cases she and her team was working on.

"Boring," he said, waving with his hand. "The wife did it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's almost always someone they know. Family member, friend. Someone dear to them. Only if you are able to rule out everyone in their circle and convince yourself none of them did it, only then you can look at outsiders." He looked at his tea. "She didn't show any sadness, just… regret."

"Oh, so because she didn't react the way you would expect her to, it immediately means that she killed her husband?"

"Exactly." He shrugged. "Call it a gut feeling."

"We can't arrest someone on a gut feeling alone, Jane."

"Sure you can."

She rolled her eyes, and felt his hand covering hers, rubbing her fingers gently.

"Teresa?"

"Hmm?"

"You never answered my question."

"Which question?"

"What kind of future you envision with me."

"Oh." She looked at his face, so calm, expectant of her reaction. She realized he hadn't looked so peaceful when they had met - his eyes had been stormy, clouded by sadness. She remembered.

Yet now, they were calm. While they were looking at her, they radiated a sort of peace she hadn't thought that he could feel.

To think that these eyes did this, simply because they were taking her in, amazed her.

"I just want to be happy."

"Could you be happy with me?"

"Yes."

He raised her hand and placed a kiss on first the top, then the palm.

"I don't understand how that happened," he whispered. "How you ended up loving me."

"Patrick, you're kind, sweet, understanding. You're everything I look for in a man. You think that just because you only own a nickel and a dime, that I wouldn't be able to love you. But I can. One's worth is not determined by someone's wealth. You're worthy to me, Patrick Jane."

She looked into his eyes, hoping that hers were as clear to read as his, but judging by the way his eyes seemed to twinkle, they had done a good job.

"Of course I wouldn't mind living in a nice house, but… I don't need it. If I can have you beside me, however long we could last, it would be enough for me. More than enough."

"But... " He swallowed and averted his eyes. She squeezed his hand to make him look at her again. She bent over the table a little so she could whisper.

"Patrick. I lost my mother when I was twelve, my father when I was fifteen. I have been alone for far longer than I would like to admit. And you make me feel so, so good. I have never been so excited every morning to face the day. Even when I know I won't see you. I… I'm in love with you, Patrick. I have never felt this way before."

They were silent for a while. She had told him that she loved him before, but her confession that she was in love with him seemed to bring an incredible impact on him. As though he still, after all this time they had spent together, doubted what her feelings could be.

She looked around, noticing some people were looking at them.

"I have to go back to work. Come to my apartment. We'll talk some more, in private."

He nodded.

"They're judging you."

"Let them. I don't care."

He let out a shaking breath. "I love you."

She smiled and reached out to trace his lips. "I love you, too."

She put enough money on the table for a reasonable tip before Jane would feel guilty for not having enough money, and kissed his lips in passing. She walked away without saying anything. He would protest against her paying.

~...~

She awaited him patiently, no reason to believe that he wouldn't come. She had cleaned around the house a little, even putting up some of the scented candles she had bought eons ago. They smelled nice.

She stood in front of one of her mirrors, and she started brushing her hair, liking it to be as smooth as possible. She touched the small bottle of her favorite perfume, and decided that he was worth it.

She changed into her pajamas and sat on the couch, and she settled into it, waiting for him to return to her.

She noticed a little later that she had fallen asleep, when his fingers on her face woke her up. She shot up, but he pushed her back down gently.

"You weren't responding to my knocks," he whispered. "I was worried something might have happened. I picked your lock."

She sat up and he took the space beside her, flowing into her empty arms so easily.

"I'm sorry."

"'Sokay."

He kissed the side of her head, and she realized how clingy she might appear, wanting his love so badly, but she didn't really care. She deserved to be happy, too, so why didn't she allow herself to be happy for once?

She turned her face and kissed his lips, brushing the sides of his face with her fingertips, and he smiled, thawing her frozen heart and body. She would fight her God for this man, if anyone ever told her that she had to part with him. No matter what happened, she wouldn't allow him to leave, and she would try her best to convince him that he was enough for her. Whatever it took.

They made gentle love on the couch, with her in his lap, and she was amazed by how attentive he was. He knew exactly what she was thinking, when to kiss her, caress her chest. She had never before felt someone's love for her so clearly while making love. It moved her, made her fall for him again and again - it even brought a few tears to her eyes.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked her almost as soon as the first tear hit her cheeks.

She shook her head, brushing his hair.

"Quite the opposite," she replied.

They lay in each other's arms afterwards, until he decided that she hadn't eaten enough and cooked for her, even if it was 9 pm and she _had_ eaten - albeit not much.

"I think I know a solution to our key problem."

"Key problem?"

"Yes. I don't want to pick your lock, people might think I'm breaking in to hurt you." Even if, and she knew that he knew it too, her neighbors couldn't possibly have any doubts about who he was. After all, he often arrived in the evening and only left in the morning. Maybe they thought he was just a casual bed partner? If only they knew. "And I don't want to carry your key on the streets, for obvious reasons."

He took a bite of his food, looking elsewhere.

"We need a lot of fake keys, and a keyring."

She frowned at him, but let him do his thinking. He didn't elaborate on his plan, so she decided that she would likely find out what he was plotting later on. She was curious, however. She wanted him to be able to stay at her place, even if she was already asleep, or perhaps when she was at work and he needed to shower.

The longer they were acquainted, the more they settled into a routine. When he took a shower, she cleaned their dishes, and they met in her bedroom, both ready for bed. She crawled in, but he remained standing, looking at her.

"You bought shampoo."

"Yes."

"For men."

"You can't keep using my rosy shampoo, Jane. Even if I know you don't mind smelling like me." She wanted to keep this as light as possible, because she knew it was a big step. Even if to an outsider, this seemed completely meaningless, she knew that to him, it was a sign of permanence. He did not like to be suffocated. She hoped he wouldn't get scared and pull back now.

He nodded and slipped beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Don't buy too much, okay?"

"Why not?" It felt like he was leaving. Her own heart was beating frantically now.

"I don't want to burden you too much with me staying here."

She made him look at her with a single finger on his chin.

"Patrick Jane," she started, "I understand that on the streets you shouldn't own too many things of value. But please, in the safety of my own home, can I please pamper you a little bit?"

He nodded, smiling a little. "I'm just… not used to this. Someone caring for me."

"You better get used to it, because I'm not letting you go."

He pulled her close, and his hand wandered down her arm to grab her hand, and when he had reached it, put it on his chest.

"Be still, my beating heart."

She rolled her eyes but didn't respond anything. How had this happened? She had loved him for a while now, but when they had met, she couldn't have imagined that she would feel like this about him. At first, she had blamed the fact that she had been alone for so long, but now, she knew it was because she really, really, loved him. It still scared her, but she knew how to breathe past it, if only barely. Even if there was a chance that they were not meant to last long, she would appreciate every moment that they could get together. His love, all the memories they made together, would be enough to make her last the rest of her life.

"I'm off tomorrow," she whispered. His heart, still covered by both their hands, started beating a little faster.

"Lucky me."

"About this afternoon…"

He shook his head. "I know. I understand now. You love me, even if it is highly rare and arguably questionable… I love you, too. I hope you know that as well."

She nodded. He was silent for a while, until he lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that in your life. It does explain a lot, though."

"Like what?" She was ready to get offended. Was he saying she had issues leftover from her childhood, manifesting itself into her current daily life?

"Like the fact that you distrust people. I'm not judging, it's not necessarily a bad trait. You have been left alone at a young age, forced to grow up." He looked at her intently. "You want to trust people, but you've been lied to and deceived so many times that it has become difficult for you."

His words hurt, because they were the truth. Her lower lip started to tremble a little. Come on, Teresa Lisbon, you're a grown woman. The only thing he's done so far is guess, and he's guessed right. Get over yourself.

"How do you know all this?"  
"I don't. You told me."

"I didn't!"

"Not verbally, no. But you're an open book. At least to me." He averted his eyes. "And… I also have trust issues. It's not hard recognizing that in somebody else."

He paused again, and she saw her own emotions reflected in his face. She wanted to hug it all away.

"After my wife and daughter died, I… I lost sight of myself. People always had their judgments at the ready, thinking it might help me. I never meant to end up on the streets, but once I was there, I couldn't find a way out. I wanted to. My wife would have wanted me to. I have tried to contact people before, but most just turn their heads for the homeless. But not you. I saw you, and I felt a flicker of hope inside me. I don't know what I was expecting, it surely wasn't this," he whispered, looking at their bodies so close to each other, "but I hoped that you would be able to help me. No matter how. And… you did. You gave me a purpose, something, some _one_ to look forward to. Your place is more than a warm room. It's like… a home to me. You're here. That's the only reason that I visit."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

He caressed her face for a few moments, love pouring out of his eyes. She felt safe in his arms, all of her doubts from weeks before had left her. She knew there was still a chance that this could go wrong, but she had faith now. She hoped, no, knew, that he would fight for it, too. It brought a welcome change compared to her previous relationships.

"What were their names?"

He swallowed. "Angela, she was my wife. And my daughter was called Charlotte."

"Will you tell me about them?"

He took in a deep breath. "They would have loved you. My wife was always very concerned about the fate of others, making sure everybody in her environment was content. She had talks of doing volunteer work for the homeless, ironically. Charlotte… she was Charlotte. The sweetest, most loving little girl I have ever met so far." He let out the breath he hadn't restored, letting his breath spread over her face.

"It's been six years, but I still miss them every single day. I… hate to admit it. It's not fair towards you. But I do."

She shook her head. "I will never ask you to forget them. I will not judge. You can feel with me however you want to feel."

He pressed his lips into a fine line, and she could swear that she could see his eyes get wet. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a tear fall to his cheeks.

"Which is exactly why I love you so much."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, observing his face. The single tear was soon joined by more, and her heart broke for this shattered man, who had been broken down by society, spat out even, never cared for. He was still dealing with his horrific loss of his wife and child, and there had been nobody who would pick up the pieces with him. The way people had dealt with him, throwing him out of his home, had only acted as an amplifier for his pain, until he was nothing but the shell of a man he used to be, and could be.

"You can let go," she whispered, kissing his cheek, hugging him even tighter. "You're safe with me."

He cried in her arms, hopefully letting go of some of his pain, making it easier to soldier on. She wished she could take everything away from him, carry it as her own, but the only thing she could do was support him through this.

She felt the urge to cry herself, but she knew she had to be strong for him. It wouldn't do either of them well if they were both a crying mess. So she held him, brushing his tears off his cheeks, making sure he was as comfortable as he could be.

He apologized when he had calmed down enough to speak. She shook her head.

"You're safe here. Everything you do and say will stay within these walls. I promise."

"Do your colleagues know of us?"

"No. Although they do know that I am seeing someone, I think. Just not who. It's not their business."

They cuddled close when there were no words left to be said. She used the sleeve of her PJ's to wipe his face clean of tears, and she kissed him goodnight. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard him whisper the three most beautiful words he could ever tell her.

"I love you."

~...~

They had a slow morning, kissing to wake each other up, and he prepared breakfast for both of them, serving it in bed. She loved seeing how he was still a little sleepy, working hard to wake up properly.

She returned to the shelter later that day, when Jane was running some errands. She saw the same woman she had seen that one day, and she instantly smiled at Lisbon, walking towards her.

"I changed my mind," Lisbon stated before the woman could say anything. "What do you need help with?"

"Just some small things, preparing soup, being someone to talk to, if you want."

Lisbon nodded and the woman guided her towards the big pans where they were already pouring bowls for the people present. In her eyes, the situation became even more poignant. It was cold outside, and these people had no place to call home. They could stay at the shelter, she knew, but it was not the same as a warm bed.

"I'm Renie, by the way."

"Teresa."

They shook their hands, and Renie handed her an apron. Lisbon got to work, silently, looking at how the other few volunteers did it, copying their methods.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Well, I didn't really. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to do this. But I know now."

Renie looked at her, and Lisbon knew the woman expected an answer.

"A miracle."

Because that is what Patrick Jane was to her - a miracle. She had never expected to ever feel like this again, was unsure even if she ever had, and she couldn't deny that she felt good. More than good, she felt like the happiest, luckiest woman alive.

"Good morning to you, Sir!"

The man in front of her looked at her questionably for a few moments, before a bright smile spread on his face.

"The same to you, Miss. How are you doing?"

"Not too bad, Sir. Not too bad."

~...~

She couldn't wipe the smile off her face, even if she hadn't even seen Jane in the last two hours or so. To think that he had a somewhat permanent impact on her mood, even when he was not around, it would have scared her before she had gotten to know him. Now, the only thing that she wanted was to be with him.

She stepped into her apartment and found Jane sitting at the kitchen table. He was bent over, focusing so much on the task at hand that he didn't even notice that she had come back home, it seemed.

She touched his back, getting his attention. His head reared up, looking at her instantly, and he smiled.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing our key problem."

He raised a big key ring with so many keys on it, she was certain she would have trouble lifting it. The metal hitting each other made a clinking sound.

"Only one fits."

"We could have just put the spare under the doormat," she said, chuckling a little. Why was he so eccentric? He couldn't do anything like anybody else did, but she knew that that was the reason he was so interesting.

"It wouldn't have been quite as much fun."

She shook her head with a bright smile, and it only formed to emphasize his. He pushed the chair away from the table enough so he could wrap an arm around her waist and pull her onto his lap, both her legs off his right side.

"I have good news," he started. "I went to our favorite cafe, and the owner has offered me a job."

Her eyes widened. "That's excellent news! Jane, congratulations!"

"It is good news, indeed." He kissed her cheek. "His tea is acceptable, but it could be better. It was about time they improved their beverages."

She laughed at his silliness, even if she knew he was likely very serious. She couldn't help it - compared to the seriousness she experienced at work, he was a breath of fresh air. Despite his endless stream of sorrow over the course of a few years, she felt that he hadn't lost that streak of youth most men carried with them. His innocence might have been damaged, but it wasn't destroyed.

"What about my offer to work with me?"

"I will offer you and your team my services, but if I would be in an office, I would just annoy you. I would be bored."

"Fair enough."

They were silent for a while, looking into each other's eyes.

"I need to appear normal on my first day, so I need a haircut."

"I love your hair like this, though." My tough man. His looks might tell people to step away, but his heart was golden.

"I know. But when I get my first paycheck, I will take you to a nice restaurant, and I want to look nice next to you."

"You already do, Patrick."

"I want to be able to convince myself as well. Please, let me do this."

She looked at him, feeling that he wanted to convince her so badly, it shouldn't be this serious. It was just a haircut and maybe a trim of his beard.

"Sure. Just don't go bald," she teased. She brushed his cheek, his chin. "I like your beard."

"I'll leave something for you to look at."

She kissed him, and they didn't talk about that anymore.

She was happy for him that he had landed a job, especially at a place that he knew and loved going to. She hoped he could keep it, and that it was a push in the right direction.

"The only thing that I think we need to discuss now," she whispered, "is you staying with me."

"What do you mean?"

"I think… well… will you stay on the streets, when you're working there?"

"I haven't thought about that yet."

His hand brushed her arm.

"You're always welcome here, if you want. You know that."

"Even if it turns out to be permanent?"

"Especially then. I know I can't force you to stay here, but all I really want is for you to have a warm bed to sleep in, especially if it means that it's by my side. I want you close to me."

"Then I will stay close."

~...~

To prepare for his first day of work, he shaved his face, removing everything that was left of his beard, only when she had agreed that it would be best. When they kissed, it felt weird but not unpleasant, to have his bare cheeks touch hers. She pulled on his curls, and he smiled against her lips.

"I might keep my hair the way it is."

"Why?"

"Because you love it so much. I don't want to put my job above you."

"It's just hair, Jane."

"Not to you, it isn't." He smiled at her. "I love the way you pull on my hair. As though it is your lifeline."

"Sometimes when we make love, it really is."

"Only sometimes?"

She merely smiled at that, knowing she might be blushing.

"You're blushing."

"Shut up." They smiled at each other like lovestruck teenagers, and it lifted her heart way up high to be able to love him so dearly. "I just love making love to you."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I love making love to you, too."

They had a quiet afternoon, cooking together, and she felt a small sense of hope building in her lower belly, that perhaps he would stay with her after all, not just in her heart but in her home as well.

~...~

He was nervous for his first day, and she could tell that he was stalling. She opened the door and smiled at him, hoping he saw the lightness of the situation. She didn't want to force him out, but he likely wouldn't leave her if she didn't.

"You will be okay."

"I know. It's just… been ages since I last worked. A proper job. It will take some time to get used to it."

He could do it, though. He had enough willpower and a clear goal. Which was to pamper her.

Well. It would be his money. He could do with it whatever he wanted.

"I want you to help me prevent spending my money on useless things."

"I think you can do it, too."

He shook his head. "You flatter me. But I think the total amount of money I have had since I became homeless does not surpass twenty dollars. I'm afraid that if I will earn now, that I will waste it."

"We'll work on it together. Let's just focus on this first. We won't burn bridges before we've crossed them."

He nodded. He was still hesitating, she felt it, so she closed the door and wrapped her arms around him, tight. He let out a deep breath.

"I have faith in you," she whispered. "Besides, you know my number. If you don't like it, or don't feel comfortable, you can always call me. I'll come and pick you up if you want it."

He chuckled. "Like I'm at daycare."

"It feels a little like that, sometimes, yes."

They both laughed, and she kissed his cheek.

"Let's go."

~...~

She was a little anxious about how his day would go, but she knew that he would do whatever he could to make it work.

She feared that she would always be scared that he wouldn't come back one day, even if he had never given her any indication that he actually wanted to leave. She couldn't blame him if he did. She would forever lose herself, however.

He did come home, as she hoped he might call her place now, his beaming smile enough explanation to her about how his day had been.

"I will have to get used to it again," he started, "but I'll live."

She smiled and stepped towards him, greeting him with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her tightly to deepen the kiss.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered against his lips.

"I'm so in love with you," he replied. Her heart melted as his words registered, and she snuggled against his chest, holding on to his shirt.

They extended their now hopefully daily routine, Jane now cleaning the dishes and turning off all the lights while she took a long, hot shower.

She had never lived together with anyone except her family. Of course there had been talk of it before with previous boyfriends, but it had never gotten to the point where she had actually moved in with someone. She knew that Jane staying with her now might not be permanent, but it still felt like living together. And she loved seeing him move around her apartment.

He was awaiting her in the bed when she was done, his chest void of any clothing, and she loved slipping into his arms, she couldn't stress it enough. His lips pressed a small kiss against the side of her head.

"Will you move in with me?"

"Haven't I already?"

"I don't know." She looked up at him. "Did you have any plans to leave?"

"Not really."

They were silent for a while.

"We don't have to call it moving in, if it scares you."

"What else can we call it, then?"

"I don't know."

He squeezed her upper arm. "I will live with you. I promise. I just… need some time to think. Just a few days, and then I'll come back to you and you'll be all mine."

"However long you need, Patrick. Can I ask for a favor within that time, however?"

"Of course."

"Can I come visit you at work sometimes? Not to intervene or try to pull you away, just to make sure you're doing okay."

He nodded. He kissed the top of her head, and linked her hand with his.

She looked up at him. Her Patrick Jane. She couldn't believe how a human being like him existed, how such an extraordinary man could walk the surface of the earth and end up here, in her bedroom, in her arms, no less.

If he would walk away, she would be heartbroken and she would definitely never love anyone ever again, not like this, but his love in these days would be enough for her for the rest of her life. She considered herself lucky to have even met him, let alone fall in love with him and have him love her back, so deeply it seemed. She couldn't fathom how this had happened, but she appreciated having this, whatever it was.

"I love you, Patrick Jane," she whispered. "You have no idea how much."

But he was already asleep.

~...~

It surprised her that she wasn't even a little bit scared that he left the next morning, even though she knew he might not come back for days. She knew, felt, that he would come back. She hoped that she could be his beacon, the only place he knew he was certain to be granted access at all times.

She couldn't help herself when on the second day of his absence she went to the cafe. He smiled at her sweetly when his eyes landed on her.

She didn't really come here to drink coffee, but she still ordered some when the waitress asked her. It would look less conspicuous.

She watched him work, even if she knew it would look threatening to anybody else, perhaps even to Jane. His occasional smiles showed her that he didn't mind having her here.

He looked good here, and it was obvious that he loved what he was doing, spending perhaps a bit too long on the cups of tea he was preparing and perhaps too less on the coffee. He smiled at all the customers who smiled at him, and he got into small talk with some, his presence seemingly making everybody feel better.

He got into a small, non-threatening argument with the waitress, and she rolled her eyes at him when he took the platter she was holding.

He came Lisbon's way, and her heart was fluttering a little, the wind he created by walking making his curls fly around his head a bit.

He placed her order on the table.

"This one is a gift," he stated, "from that gentleman over there."

He pointed to a man who was sitting at the bar, and he had no interest whatsoever and she knew that. She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

She startled when he took her hand and kissed the top of it, trying to keep it from being too obvious. She smiled at him, not being able to stop it.

"Do you often do this to customers?" she teased, referring to the fact that she had invited him to her apartment when he was still just a witness, and he had stood there with his shirt off.

He smiled, hopefully catching her meaning.

"Enjoy your coffee, dear Teresa."

She only left when she knew she had sort of satisfied her need to see him. She would never get enough of seeing him.

~...~

She stood in front of her closet, looking at all the clothes she owned. More than half of them she never wore, so it was honestly a waste of space. She took out some, judging whether she wanted to keep them, but then decided to take them to shelter the next time she would go. All of the clothes she had taken out had left almost half of her closet empty. Her heart fluttered as she realized that it would allow her love to keep some of his clothes there, if he wanted to.

~...~

A few days later, she was awoken abruptly in the middle of the night by sirens coming from the streets. She wrapped a bathrobe around her and went to open the door to see what was going on. However, when she stepped into her living room, she was surrounded by flames and heat, and she froze to the floor.

What had happened? What was happening here? Okay, it didn't matter now, she had to get out of here. She could see the main door was blocked off by the fire, so that was out of the question. The windows close to the door were also blocked.

She took in a deep breath. She had to stay calm. Was there another way out? She knew her apartment like the back of her hand, and in that moment, she realized that she was quickly running out of a safe passage. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest, and she started breathing quicker, even if she knew it wouldn't do her any good.

She looked around her apartment, seeing if there was anything that would protect her from the fire - she had to walk through, there was no other way. If she would stay here and do nothing, she would certainly die. Her eyes landed on the blanket - the one Jane had slept under that one night, the one that still smelled of him, the one that reminded her of everything sweet about him. She had to survive, for him. She didn't know what would become of him if she were gone.

She rushed to it and wrapped it around herself. Just when she turned back to the door, something heavy fell down on top of her, and she lost her footing, falling to the floor. It didn't take long until everything turned black around her.

A little while later, she felt gentle, familiar hands on her, gripping her tight, pushing what had fallen on top of her away. She wanted to open her eyes to look, but her head hurt too much, her body aching all over.

"Teresa," he whispered, and even though the fire was roaring around them, she could hear him clear as day, as though everything around them, all the noises, were drowned out and the only thing that existed was him. "We'll get you out of here. Don't move."

He pushed the remaining debris off of her, and she felt she could breathe better, but then the smoke registered and she had to cough. At the same time, his strong arms lifted her, and she couldn't help but wrap her arms around him tight, her only lifeline at this moment. She managed to open her eyes now, only barely, looking at him. He was covered in sweat and dust, but he was so focused that he didn't seem to care.

He stepped into the flames, rushing to reduce the damage on them, and before she knew it, they were outside. He placed her on a stretcher, and she was quickly checked up by paramedics, and he dared to step away, on which she quickly grasped him by his arm.

He understood her hint. He took his place beside her, holding on to her hand tightly, likely to reassure himself more than her. She saw he was crying, and she just rubbed the top of his hand, it being the only thing she could think of to do in this situation to comfort him. Surprisingly, there were no tears on her side, likely from the adrenaline coursing through her body. She didn't feel any pain, just clarity.

She had survived for a reason, she knew. She regarded this as a sign - her life was forever entwined with his, even if they had only been together for about two months. She knew this better than anything else, and judging by the way he held on to her hand, he probably realized the same thing.

"I almost lost you."

He was right. But it wouldn't happen again. She would make sure of that.

~...~

She had to stay overnight, and he only visited her room when he was certain everybody else had left. Her team had visited, even Minelli had come by to see how she was doing. Yet even when Jane was there, he was merely looking at her, his eyes taking her in. When after a few minutes he stepped towards her, she quickly grasped his hand.

She would never, ever let go ever again.

There were no words for what she was feeling now, the reality of it still not fully registered in her head. She didn't know how far gone her apartment was, but she had a feeling that it was lost. So now they were both homeless?

She held his face between her hands, comforting him when he started crying again. He lay his head on the bed and she ran her hands through his curls, reassuring herself as well as him, hopefully.

When after minutes of them outing their frustration, their fears, they looked at each other, staring into their eyes intently, and she felt she could read his entire soul, everything laid out before her.

"You saved my life," she whispered.

"You saved mine, by loving me. It's only fair." He kissed the top of her hand, like he had in the cafe days before, yet now his lips lingered, all the while his eyes were looking at her, still. "I'm not leaving again. I promise."

"They will pull you out of here by your ears, though." It caused him to chuckle a little.

"I will risk it."

She lifted his hand, kissing his palm, and she saw his eyes closing in what appeared to be bliss. She smiled against his skin, which made him smile, too.

She should be worrying now, wondering what the hell had happened at the apartment, where they should live now, but really the only thing that was important to her was him at that moment. So the only thing she did was focusing on him.

"Don't be alarmed," he whispered, causing her to be pulled out of her thoughts, "but I have discovered some things in our time apart, and the most prominent being that I intend to marry you one day."

With anybody else, her heart would be scared, frightened by his words, but this was Patrick Jane. She hadn't meant for it to be this way, but what he meant to her was indescribable by all the words in any language whatsoever.

"You're certain?"

"I will never meet anyone like you, Teresa. I could look further, but I know there's no chance."

"I agree. There's nothing like us out there."

He smiled, but got serious quickly. "I don't want to fool either of us. I don't have much to offer you, but what I can offer you is my love. You have showed me that it seems to be enough for you."

She nodded when she noticed he was pausing, so as not to interfere. He brushed her cheek.

"Just sleep now, Teresa Lisbon. I'll stay here, with you."

And even if she knew that when visiting hours would end, he would be sent away and she would be alone, she fell asleep, knowing that at least he was here when she did succumb to sleep.

~...~

The next morning he showed up in her room, even before visiting hours had started. She felt like the staff was already happy that he hadn't stayed during the night. He was carrying a couple of red roses, and his bright smile was visible from miles ahead.

He kissed her gently, waking her up fully, and she loved seeing him, would never tire of this view.

Especially now that she knew he wanted to marry her. She felt it would still take some time before they would actually take that step, but now she knew that it was on the horizon, it made this even more real to her. They had forever, anyway.

She was cleared to go, even if she had gotten clear instructions on how to treat her injuries, which were mostly burns. They knew she would heal better at home.

Home. What home? They went to her apartment building, but were met with nothing but destruction. The for her so familiar yellow tape barred anyone from entering the premises, and her heart constricted a little as she registered everything.

There wasn't anything left. Just the remains of foundations and walls, some furniture but burned heavily.

"My god," she whispered. His hand entwined with hers, supporting her. She felt a little emotional, tears burning in her eyes a little. She had lived there for years, most recently making countless of beautiful memories with the man who was currently standing beside her. These memories were in her head and heart, she knew that, but not being able to see that space again hurt more than she could fathom.

They had nowhere to stay now. When she looked at him, she felt he was thinking the same thing.

"I can ask my coworkers. But I don't know if they'll have space for us both."

"Then we'll just focus on getting you a place to sleep. I'm used to the streets."

"Nonsense. You promised me you would stay with me. We'll find something."

He was having his doubts, but there was no way she would let him get out of her sight, not for an entire night anyway.

She walked up to an investigator who was working the scene, and she got her attention.

"Excuse me, I lived in one of these apartments. Is it possible for me to go inside and see if I can get something that is not destroyed?"

The woman discussed it with her fellow coworkers, and they decided to allow it, with somebody to accompany them in case something were to go wrong.

There was nothing that could be recovered, everything burned down to a crisp. The more of her items she saw, misshapen so badly they were hardly recognizable, the more emotional she became, not meaning to cry but breaking down anyway. Jane wrapped his arms around her, comforting her, and she held onto him, riding out her sadness like waves on an ocean, and every time she thought she was finished, she saw another item past his shoulder and it all started again.

Eventually, her eyes landed on one particular item that was still blinking a little, like metal, and she pushed away from his arms to inspect it. It was a picture frame fallen forward, and when she lifted it, she found that the photo inside was damaged but still recognizable. It was of her and her family, her brothers and her parents, when they had been happy together, when her life had still been on track. It was coming closer now, with Jane by her side, but she felt that everything would have been easier if her childhood had turned out differently.

She sighed and looked at Jane.

"Let's go. I won't get better from staying here."

He nodded and grabbed hold of her hand, the picture frame in her other. She didn't know what would be in store for them, but she would manage with him. He could make every somber day feel like the best day in her life.

~...~

The first person she could think of to ask for help was Grace van Pelt, but it still made her nervous. It was ridiculous, she knew, this was a matter of life and death almost, but Grace had never met Jane, didn't even know that Lisbon was with him. She was scared the younger woman would judge her.

She opened the door, shock and confusion written on her face. Her eyes almost immediately landed on Jane.

"What happened?"

"Long story. I… We… need a place to sleep. I know it's short notice, but…"

Grace instantly nodded.

"Of course you can stay with me! However long you need. Come inside, tell me everything."

Lisbon couldn't keep her feelings to herself, so when she started talking, everything came out, explaining everything that had happened, not sparing any of the details. When everything was told, she realized the only thing she had left out was… Jane.

She looked at him. His eyes were already on her.

"I met him," she whispered. "If I wouldn't have met him, I don't know if I would be here to tell this story."

The three of them were silent for a while. Lisbon took Jane's hand in hers.

"Okay. We'll find you a place to stay at, if it isn't here. If needed, I'm sure everybody will chip in for a while." She looked at the two of them. "Now. How about you two?"

Lisbon looked at Jane again.

"Are you in love?" When she didn't get an answer, she continued. "I know enough."

She reached out her hand to Jane, and he shook it.

"Grace van Pelt."

"Patrick Jane."

"Nice to meet you."

~...~

Grace had a guest room, but with a single bed, and she apologized, offering her own room, but Lisbon refused. She wanted to be close to Jane anyway, so it didn't matter to her.

He slipped into her arms that night, and one of his hands quickly went up into her hair, massaging her scalp, and she sighed in bliss, happy and safe here.

The harsh reality quickly sank in, however, and it sobered her up.

"We're both homeless," she whispered. He nodded. "I know we can manage, but… I want us to be happy. And that includes a place to stay at."

He kissed the top of her head.

"Maybe you'll get compensated for the damage. It won't be enough to pay rent, or an actual house… but maybe we can get a loan. Let's not forget we both have a job. We'll make it work. I'll fight for it, if I need to."

"I will, too."

"Then that is the most important thing." He made her look at her. "Hey. You still have me."

She let out a watery chuckle, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I want you to be happy," she whispered, trying to convince both of them one last time that they could get better, even if she didn't believe it.

"I am happy," he replied. He smiled. "A nice, beautiful lady has once taught me that items don't mean that much, if you can have someone's love."

His smile widened as his words sank in, and she chuckled at his silliness.

"That's it. Don't be sad. We can be happy without all these materialistic things. I will show you."

"Do you think we could buy something small? Rent a place maybe?"

"Of course. We might have to cut down on luxuries in the beginning, but I'm sure we can find something."

All that was important to her was that he would stay with her. He was all that she needed.

~...~

The investigation that was instigated by local law enforcement had shown that the fire had been lit by somebody, but they didn't know yet who the perpetrator could be.

City council had set up a funds to help find housing for the people who had lived in the apartment building, so that they didn't have to end up on the streets.

She was offered a small space, a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, but it was more than enough for her.

Her friends had gotten her furniture, and even if they were low cost, she appreciated their actions. Without them, she would be sleeping on the floor.

Jane and her stepped into the apartment, all of the furniture they had received already placed there, and she looked around the place, her gaze landing on every little thing was stored here. It wasn't much, but it was something.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and he kissed the skin in her neck. She smiled and placed her hands over his.

She turned so she could kiss him, and he returned her kiss, until they had to part to get air.

"Let this be our new start," he whispered. "We will make the best of it."

"I love you." She held his face. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"I love you, too, dearest Teresa Lisbon."

After only a day in this new place, he moved in with her. Finally. It felt incredibly reassuring to know that he would always be next to her in bed in the mornings, and that he would always come home to her when he finished work.

~...~

Cho stepped into her office one day with a determined look on his face. She had known him for years - she knew that whatever would be coming next, she wouldn't like it.

"Just say it."

He sat down.

"Say what?"

"Whatever it is you came into my office for."

"Patrick Jane."

"What about him?"

"What is your opinion of him?"

She frowned.

"Is that a secret?"

"I guess not." He paused. "He doesn't own much."

"Neither do I."

He nodded. "So what does he have to offer you?"

She fought back the urge to sigh. Why did people not understand? She didn't need them to fall in love with him, too, just to see that she loved him, and that she was happy. Neither of them had a lot of items to offer, but they had enough love to spare.

"I love him. That's the only thing that's important to me."

He looked at her, and she felt that he was reading her entire soul, judging her intentions, her feelings.

"I just wanted to see your intentions."

"Why?" It was not meant to come out bold, but she couldn't be helped if it did.

"Because I want you to be happy. That's all we want for you. But Patrick Jane… he's a good man. For as far as I can see." He paused again. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

"I'm happy." And she really meant it. If someone had told her before meeting him that she could ever feel this happy, she would've laughed at them. She had always believed that she was destined to live a lonely life, but she had found out that that didn't have to be the case. She could slip into Jane's arms, and feel like all of her worries fell off of her.

She focused on him again after a few moments. She saw he was smiling, such a rare occurrence she was flabbergasted by the sight. He shook his head and looked away.

"He's good for you."

"He is."

"Just be careful. You should only give your heart when you're absolutely certain."

"I will. Thank you."

But she had already given Jane her heart, maybe long before they had confessed their feelings.

They continued the rest of their work day without discussing the subject.

~...~

Jane met her as soon as she opened the door, and he kissed her quick, smiling from ear to ear. She stopped him when he turned away from her, and she linked their lips again, wrapping her arms around him. He smiled against her lips, making her heart flutter.

"I missed you."

"It's only been a few hours," he teased. She brushed his hair, caressing his curls.

"I want to marry you," she stated, not missing a beat. Her heart knew no hesitation when it came to this matter, and if anything, her conversation with Cho had only served to confirm her feelings.

He hugged her tightly, only to lift her in the air, turning them around a few times. When he put her back on her feet, he put his forehead against hers.

"Are you certain it's not too early? I mean, we've only really been together for a short time…"

"I don't want to waste any time. I love you. I want to spend my life with you."

He smiled and kissed her, too, until he pulled back and looked at her again.

"Teresa," he whispered, "I love you so much. I love you more than there are words in books, and stars in the sky. I love you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow or any other day that's awaiting us."

She traced his lips.

"I know, Patrick. You don't need to tell me."

"I want to tell you. You mean so much to me. The fact that you want to marry me, like I want to marry you, is the most valuable thing I have ever owned."

There were tears in his eyes, she saw, but she didn't allow them to surface, didn't want them to stain his cheeks. They didn't have the right.

Jane and her deserved to be happy above all, and crying wasn't included in that package. Even if she knew they were happy tears.

"Don't cry. We'll be happy together, I dare to make that promise. We can wake up beside each other every day, we'll get married one day, and maybe… well. We might have some kids one day, if you want that, of course. We can make the best of what time we have left. Whatever happens, or doesn't happen, I will be with you every step of the way." She slid her hands under his shirt, and his eyes twinkled.

"I couldn't agree more." He kissed her, his lips moving against hers sensually. "Shall we make love now?"

"I thought you would never ask."

~...~

He had sworn not to go back to the streets, because he knew that life was better with her than out on the streets. He had, however, found out about her volunteer work at the shelter. He had gotten emotional first, before insisting that he help. He wanted to leave a positive impact on the world as well, just like her.

And it looked good, both of them breaking a sweat trying to help those who needed it. Especially when she saw an older woman steal a kiss from him, and Lisbon heard him explain that he was already taken.

Patrick Jane was hers. And she was his.

~...~

They didn't have a lot of money to spend, but it really didn't matter. Walks through the forest or the city center were free, and they occasionally spent a little money on pampering the other.

One day, he presented a square box, all covered in wrapping paper. She was worried as well as intrigued to find out what was inside.

"I know we don't do gifts often," he started, "but I felt like my love deserved to be shown my gratitude."

She frowned but opened the gift anyway. Inside a small, red velvet box, she found a shining ring. Looking up at him, she saw he was looking at her, too.

"A ring."

Not just any ring, she knew. They had talked more and more of marriage, especially because they were both so comfortable living together. Getting married would not change anything about their relationship, but it would make it official. It would leave no doubt to the people around them - they loved each other, eternally.

"I promise we're not bankrupt."

She chuckled, looking at the ring again. It was honestly beautiful, and undoubtedly expensive, at least within their budget.

"Can we still get groceries?"

"Of course."

She made him inch closer so she could kiss him. "Just to be clear, this is a proposal, right?"

He nodded, and took her hand in his.

"But if you're doubting, I will do it properly." He kissed her hand. "Will you marry me?"

She felt tears building up, but smiled before they showed.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just… thank you."

He smiled at her and sat down on the couch next to her, before he pulled her into his lap.

"No. Thank _you_."

They would forever be arguing about who saved who. She had saved him by getting him off the streets, and he had saved her by getting her out of her burning apartment. However, they had saved each other by their love. That was certain.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright! That was that! This story is my baby, and I'm scared nobody will like it, but then still I liked writing this, and I proofread it in the past few days and I really liked rereading it, so there you go.**

 **I wanted to focus less on the case they were solving than the love that was blossoming between them, so that is why there is no real closure to the case. But also mainly because Jane and Lisbon were more busy falling in love than solving the case.**

 **It would do me well if you would leave a review, or add it to your favorites so you can let me know what your thoughts are!**

 **Thanks for reading, Happy New Year, Happy Easter and Happy Halloween! (I haven't been here since the beginning of 2017, have I?)**


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